


Single & Single

by AppleSharon



Series: Our Kind of Traitor (Reeve Tuesti) [5]
Category: Compilation of Final Fantasy VII, Dirge of Cerberus: Final Fantasy VII, Final Fantasy VII (Video Game 1997), Final Fantasy VII Remake (Video Game 2020)
Genre: Friendship, Getting Together, M/M, Matchmaking, Mutual Pining, Pining, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-23
Updated: 2020-05-26
Packaged: 2021-03-03 01:07:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,565
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24342511
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AppleSharon/pseuds/AppleSharon
Summary: Reeve quirked an eyebrow. “You purchased an incredibly expensive bottle of wine for me because Vincent bought a phone?”“No,” she said. Her grin was equal parts disarming and intimidating. Reeve felt like he should have backed away, but she was already in front of him, pressing the bottle into his hands. “You did.”“I did?”Reeve's assistant tries her hand at matchmaking. Unfortunately, her two charges are guilt-ridden idiots. Post-Dirge of Cerberus.
Relationships: Reeve Tuesti & Reeve Tuesti's Assistant, Reeve Tuesti/Vincent Valentine
Series: Our Kind of Traitor (Reeve Tuesti) [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1730203
Comments: 12
Kudos: 71





	1. A new PHS

**Author's Note:**

  * For [UnbiddenRhythm](https://archiveofourown.org/users/UnbiddenRhythm/gifts).



> Thank you to [UnbiddenRhythm](https://archiveofourown.org/users/UnbiddenRhythm/pseuds/UnbiddenRhythm) for the prompt idea. I love writing Reeve's assistant and one of these days I'll actually get off my own arse and write an assistant/Reeve romance for you. 
> 
> The name "Rita" comes from UnbiddenRhythm. I'll likely change it if we do discover her name in the future. 
> 
> "Single & Single" is the name of a John le Carré novel (I promise) fitting in with a running theme I've been doing for all of my Reeve story titles.

Shelke had found Vincent approximately a month ago. Reeve had been in the his office with Rufus Shinra when the call had come through. 

More than a few events had sent Rita running through the halls of the WRO, but that had been the happiest one to date. Reeve had immediately called his Cait Sith unit back from wherever he had been scouring the planet for signs or rumours of Vincent. 

Today, she hugged her PHS to her chest for a brief moment, staring up at the crumbling ceiling with a giddy grin. 

“Note to self,” she said aloud. “Have the cleanup crews take a look at the structural integrity of the ceiling in the main hallway.”

“Talkin’ to yerself again, missy?”

“Cait!” Rita turned around and brandished her PHS at the small robot before pocketing it. “Just found out some good news. Are you back from your search?”

“Headed out again now.” The cat pointed behind her, down the hallway. “Need to look into somethin’ for the Big Boss.”

Rita rolled her eyes. “You can just call him Rufus when you’re here at the WRO.”

“There’s no fun in that,” Cait replied with a cheeky grin. “Tell the boss I say hullo an’ to get his head out of his arse. Although he’s already heard by now, ya know.”

She gave him a thumbs up and a wink as he bounded past her.

***

An hour later, Rita found Reeve buried behind a mountain of paperwork on his desk.

“Get my head out of my arse about what exactly?” Reeve asked as she walked in following a courtesy knock. 

“You should let your accent come out more often, sir.” She skipped over answering his initial question. “It’s charming.”

“Habit, I’m afraid,” he said, a small blush colouring his cheeks. “I can hear Ma’s voice in my head yelling at me.”

She nodded and sat down on the leather loveseat in the centre of his office. It reminded her of when she first started working for Reeve, pulling all nighters while sneaking glances at her boss in between paperwork when she could. 

After a comfortable silence save the occasional tapping of a stylus or scratching of pen across paper, Reeve sighed, massaging his temples with his fingers. 

“Too much paperwork?”

“It’s just that—“

“—sometimes you wish you were a fighter.”

“—sometimes I wish I was a fighter.”

They said this in tandem. Reeve grinned up at her.

“Have I mentioned recently how incredibly grateful I am that you decided to join me here at the WRO?”

“Have I mentioned recently how incredibly grateful I am that survived Meteorfall at all?” she retorted. 

Rita had already crossed the room and placed her hand on his shoulder before his face fell. 

“Not your fault, Reeve,” she said softly. 

He looked up at her with a sad smile. She was reminded of the original Shinra building and the night after the Sector Seven plate collapse. 

“It is, but your kindness is appreciated, as always,” Reeve said wistfully. He shook his head. “Unfortunately it’s also undeserved.”

It was an old argument, carried from the 63rd floor of the Shinra tower to these new-yet-similar offices of the WRO. Reeve’s overwhelming amount of guilt was only surpassed by one other man she knew. 

“That reminds me,” she said aloud. 

Reeve’s eyes followed her, confused, as she walked towards the doorway and retrieved a bottle of wine from where she’d placed it behind the door. 

“What’s the occasion?” 

“Vincent bought a PHS,” she said. “I received a message from Tifa this morning about it. He’s looking for work.”

Reeve quirked an eyebrow. “You purchased an incredibly expensive bottle of wine for me because Vincent bought a phone?”

“No,” she said. Her grin was equal parts disarming and intimidating. Reeve felt like he should have backed away, but she was already in front of him, pressing the bottle into his hands. “You did.”

“I did?”

Rita shrugged. “I used your account to buy it. You can afford it.”

“That’s not really the point—“ Reeve placed the bottle of wine on his desk and held his hands up in a gesture of surrender at her immediate glare. 

“Rita, I’m not mad. I’m confused. You wanted me to buy Vincent a bottle of wine to celebrate his purchase of a new phone.”

“A new phone, with which he can better communicate with you.”

Reeve blushed. “I really don’t think that he’s going to use it for anything other than business. Or possibly telling Yuffie to stop bothering him.”

“He won’t,” she said in agreement. “But, business is the only way either of you know how to communicate.” 

“What else would he have to communicate with me about? You just said he was looking for work.”

Rita internally congratulated herself on the fact that Reeve flushed even darker as he said this.

“Aren’t you two friends?” She asked the question guilelessly, as if she was confused at his previous statement. Reeve’s eyes narrowed. 

“Don’t assume ignorance Rita, you’re one of the most intelligent people I know.” There was no bite to his words, just another blush and some fidgeting with his notepad stylus. He weaved it deftly between his fingers as he looked down at the paperwork littered across his desk. 

Rita decided to change her strategy. “I used to watch this silly drama growing up,” she began. “The two leads were hopeless about how they felt about each other and it dragged on for eight seasons. Even as a kid I was so annoyed by them.”

“You’re comparing my friendship with Vincent to a televised soap opera now?”

“No, I just felt a moment of remarkable solidarity with the lead’s long-suffering best friend,” she said with a grin.


	2. Arrival

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _After an hour of eavesdropping, Rita realized that listening in on Reeve’s conversations with Vincent only gave her about half of what they were communicating at any given time. She wondered how they could have possibly conversed through Cait Sith, since they seemed to meander along without saying much at all._
> 
> _It was infuriating._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Can be seen as a coda to [A Most Wanted Man](https://archiveofourown.org/works/24135382/chapters/58111417) but it doesn't have to be.
> 
> Apparently I can't . . . not get slightly angsty when writing about these two whoops.

Every morning, Reeve greeted Rita with a nervous energy that hadn’t been there before. He checked his PHS more frequently than ever, brushing it off whenever she asked whose call he was expecting. 

As their work extended late into the night, his eyes would occasionally glance over at the bottle of wine she had purchased, now tucked up on one of his shelves between old reactor diagnostics and other salvaged Shinra files. 

This behaviour went on for weeks with no Vincent in sight. Rita thought of messaging Tifa, but Tifa would have likely told her if she had known exactly when Vincent was coming.

“He’ll come,” she said one night when she couldn’t stand his moping any longer. “Tifa said he needed a job.”

Reeve sighed. “I’m just glad he’s alright, Rita. He’s a good friend.”

Vincent Valentine arrived at WRO headquarters the next day. 

“Good evening, Mister Valentine,” she said with a small bow and a wide grin. “Welcome back.”

He inclined his head ever-so-slightly in her direction. 

“Where is he?”

His voice was gravelly and low. It unintentionally sparked Rita’s disapproval.

Her initial assessment of Vincent Valentine had been less-than-complimentary. Had she been keeping some sort of points tally — she did this more often with people in the former Shinra company than she cared to admit, going as far as to have a MakoTalk channel with a few of her more trusted colleagues in Urban Development — he would have started in the negatives for no other reason than being a Turk. 

Rita had seen firsthand how Tseng’s actions and acquaintance hurt Reeve directly and she loathed him for it. He’d used Reeve’s talents without remorse or thought given to how it would affect the man behind Cait Sith. The rest of the Department of Administrative Research could be wiped from the planet for all Rita cared, save Elena, who was a fantastic drinking buddy and even better friend who happened to have an unfortunate taste in men. 

Despite meeting Vincent for the first time in the midst of helping Reeve with the evacuation of Midgar, he was still a former Turk. 

Vincent was also taciturn at best, impossible to talk with, and disappeared frequently, only reappearing at his own convenience. Adding insult to injury, he had the audacity to have beautiful facial features that bordered on uncanny and inhuman. 

Rita had let this assessment slip to Reeve one night after one too many drinks and he had admonished her — not rising to anger but instead speaking in a quiet way that made her feel awful for saying anything. 

“To make it through everything he went through…” Reeve had trailed off, shaking his head.

“We used to talk frequently, y’know,” He continued wistfully, slurring his words a bit as awe crept into his voice. The dregs of his wine swirled in the bottom of his wineglass bowl as he rotated it absentmindedly with his thumb and index finger. 

“During all of it. The entire journey. Through Cait Sith. Vincent’s a good man, Rita. He’s one of the good ones. And he’s been through so much. He’s remarkable.”

Rita had fought back tears at the longing in his voice.

Elena wasn’t her only friend with terrible taste in men, and while she’d like to shake the both of them until they came to their senses, it didn’t seem likely to work. A different approach was necessary.

So, Rita bought the best bottle of wine she could find when the news came through that Vincent had been found. She had been genuinely happy to learn that Vincent was not only alive, but was returning to the Midgar area for work.

And now, she smiled brightly at Vincent and gestured at the elevator doors next to Reeve’s office. 

“He’s on the roof watching the sun set over the city again.” She hoped the natural fondness in her voice would coax at least a smile from Vincent.

It did not. 

With another tilt of his head in her direction, Vincent turned and walked into the elevator.

“Wait!” 

She quickly ran into Reeve’s office, grabbing the bottle of wine from the shelf. It was a bit dusty, and she’d later regret scrubbing at it with the beige sleeve of her blazer, but she pressed it into Vincent’s hand with a flourish. 

From what she could see beneath the cowl, Vincent was confused. 

“Reeve bought this for you,” she said. “For when you came back.”

It wasn’t technically a lie. 

“Take these while you’re at it.” Rummaging under her desk, she pulled out more bottles and two long-stemmed glasses. She had been planning on sharing these wines with Elena the next time they saw each other, but they were being donated to a worthwhile cause. Elena was more of a beer drinker anyway.

“You should take them up to him, have a few drinks.” 

“I don’t drink,” Vincent said. He looked a bit ridiculous carrying three bottles of wine in his arms. His gold gauntlet pinged with a tinny sound of metal against glass. 

She sighed loudly. “He does. And I’m sure he’s happy that you’re back. He’ll want to celebrate. Even if he won’t admit it, he needs a break, Vincent. If anything, do it as a favour to me. Or to him.”

He stared at her blankly. After a few moments, he turned and walked into the elevator. The doors hissed quietly as they closed behind him. 

Rita sighed again, stacking paper folders on her desk with a loud tap.

“What did those files ever do ta ya, missy?”

“Cait!” 

The small robot jumped up onto her desk, crossing its arms over its front with a grin. “I see yer matchmaking was a success. And ya didn’t even need my fortunes ta do it!”

She laughed. Rita wondered how much Cait Sith knew of Reeve’s feelings towards Vincent since they shared an odd — and honestly still-inexplicable, even after all these years — mental bond. Cait had never stopped her efforts, so at the very least he was amused by them.

“Want ta spy on them with me?”

“Why Cait Sith, what a devious and excellent idea.” She held out her arm to him as if they were dance partners. “Shall we?”

“Tis my pleasure,” he said with an exaggerated bow.

***

“She’s…safe.” Rita heard Vincent say as she crept behind one of the WRO building’s industrial aircon vents.

“I’m glad to hear it,” Reeve said. There was a small clinking noise as the two tapped their glasses together.

“Reeve…I’m…”

She watched as her boss waited patiently, smiling at Vincent the entire time. 

“... I'm glad I survived. I thanked her.”

Reeve hummed affirmatively. “I’m happy for you, Vincent.”

***

After an hour of eavesdropping, Rita realized that listening in on Reeve’s conversations with Vincent only gave her about half of what they were communicating at any given time. She wondered how they could have possibly conversed through Cait Sith, since they seemed to meander along without saying much at all.

It was infuriating.

_How had their friendship even started? Their discussions are near-impenetrable._

“They’re always like this, missy,” Cait Sith said softly as if he could read her mind. She must have let the confusion show on her face. “Yer not gonna understand the half of it.”

“I knew something was off the moment you stepped out of the van with a gun,” Vincent was saying.

Reeve laughed. It was clear and unhindered. Rita hadn’t heard Reeve laugh like that in a long time. 

“I’m not a fighter, ya know? I thought it was rather clever.”

“The accent’s coming out,” she whispered to Cait Sith. “This is going to get good.”

“But when your body fell to pieces like that I… I didn’t know what to do.”

“Ah. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize…”

“But—“

Vincent let out a low chuckle. It stunned Rita. She couldn’t remember a time she’d ever heard Vincent laugh. 

“It’s funny…in hindsight.”

“I s’pose it is.”

Rita heard the smile in Reeve’s voice.

***

“Vincent I’m—“

Reeve hiccoughed loudly. 

“So sorry for what I put ya through.” 

“Reeve, it’s not your fault.”

“I shouldna asked that of ya.” 

“Reeve.” 

“Ya deserved better, y’know?”

There was a long break in the conversation. Vincent didn’t answer and Reeve’s voice had trailed off sleepily. 

When she couldn’t stand not knowing what was happening, Rita peered around the aircon vent to see that Reeve had laid back onto the roof fully. His chest was rising and falling in a slow rhythm.

 _He actually fell asleep?! Maybe I shouldn’t have given Vincent so many bottles of wine._

As she was berating herself for potentially ruining her boss’ chances, Rita saw Vincent stand up, wordlessly scooping Reeve into his arms. 

She bit back a gasp as her boss’ hand reached up and grabbed a fistful of Vincent’s cape, pulling on it while curling into him. 

Vincent’s cowl was pulled back and his cape had shifted like a blanket, wrapping around Reeve protectively. She saw a flash of Vincent’s face — still pristine and too perfect, but with an affectionate smile curling at the corners of his lips as he looked down at Reeve. 

_Oh. There it is._

***

The next morning, Rita found Vincent waiting at her desk.

“Thank you,” he said as she approached. 

His voice remained just above a whisper, still soft and low but carrying something else. Her chest ached and her fingers twitched with a sudden desire to take his hand and reassure him. 

_Vincent’s a good man, Rita. He’s one of the good ones. And he’s been through so much. He’s remarkable._

She heard Reeve’s voice in her head and nodded. 

“You’re welcome.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was really fun to write and like most of my Reeve stories I'm not ruling out adding to it later. 
> 
> Elena and Rita's friendship was inspired by Unbidden Rhythm's [Serendipity](https://archiveofourown.org/works/24378250).


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